


as in a fairy tale

by arevo



Category: Original Work
Genre: Canon Divergent, Crossdressing, F/F, Flirting, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Secret Relationship, Victorian-esque, immediate sparks, meet at a ball, not historically accurate at all, secret lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:55:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27823342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arevo/pseuds/arevo
Summary: Miss Cecilia Bowen is quite taken with the rogueish Mister Rowan Taiko, and the latter with the former. Nevermind that one is a rich heiress on a very short leash, and the other is a crossdressing dockworker, both only vaguely obscured from prying eyes by champagne and chandeliers. But as fate would have it, they can't seem to let glances be just that.(An entirely self-indulgent AU of the main characters of my novel to shake up the lockdown/academic fog of my current state.)
Relationships: OC/OC, oc!rowan taiko X oc!cecilia bowen
Kudos: 3
Collections: Oc Centric Fics





	as in a fairy tale

“Introducing Mister Sebastion Creed, and Mister Rowan Taiko, sir.” The footman raised his imperious chin, a flick of his gaze from heel to crown of the two suited young men. “Associates of Miss Autumn Odette.”

“I pray she’ll excuse the delay in our arrival,” Mister Creed said, carefully folding his overcoat over his arm before passing it to the footman. He was a handsome young man, with golden waves swept artfully away from his face, his aquiline nose and clear blue eyes, full lips and a distinguished jawline. His broad shoulders, drawn back and down in a relaxed pride, spoke to a strong and lithe figure and he moved with a subtle confidence that cleared his path. His suit cut close and comfortably, a stark back pant and jacket that contrasted against the colour of his skin, and the navy waistcoat made the blue of his cool eyes bright. “I believe she left word of our attendance, sir?” 

The butler, a stern fellow with a long face, pinched his mouth tight, looking from Mister Creed to his companion, the comparatively slight and haughty figure of Mister Taiko. “For both of you, Mister Creed?”

“Yes, both of us.” Mister Creed’s polite tone crept towards cool. 

The footman and butler exchanged a look, before bowing the two young men into the ballroom where the party was already in full swing. 

Mister Taiko let out a low whistle, running a hand over his hair. “Rich girls, man,” he whispered, cracking a lopsided grin. “They really know how to throw a shindig.” 

The arched ceilings – painted and inlaid with precious minerals, hung with crystal chandeliers that scattered warm, sparkling light upon the patrons – was high enough to accommodate the entirety of a commoner’s entire dwelling. Upon a stage tucked into a curved corner, so that their soft, bright music might fill the room without crowding it out, sat a band of strings and horns. Household staff in the Odette livery moved through the crowd quickly, efficiently, without dropping a tray nor a drop of liquor upon them. The guests were just as lavish – men in well-cut brocades, carefully sculpted hair, symbolic rapiers, and medals adorning their garments. The women, however, were a whole step above, in gowns of bright silks and satins that caught the light, glittering stones around their soft, pale throats, hair piled high. It didn’t help that the fashion at the moment so prominently featured the exposed clavicle and boosted bosom.

“Don’t do anything rash, Rowan,” Mister Creed warned under his breath, adjusting his cuffs. 

The slighter of the two rolled his eyes. “I’ll endeavor to preserve your good name in all I do these next several hours, mark my words,” Rowan said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Pray, tell me which of these ladies is the dangerous heiress so that I might steer clear of her?” 

Taking his companion by the shoulder, he gestured. “In the peach dress, with the curly hair. Miss Cecilia Bowen. Rumour has it that her young cousin Nathaniel will inherit the family trade and her father is looking for a well-off gentleman to settle her with. They are zealously overprotective of their daughter.”

The latter half of Mister Creed’s explanation fell upon muted ears, as the figure he’d indicated was both distinct and had the audacity of a single escaped curl trailing the nape of her neck, and her round cheeks were pink with rouge or drink; it was unclear which. Her lips were full, hands wrapped so loosely, so casually around the stem of her champagne flute. The peach subtracted as much as it added, an inverse of her complexion, but it was tailored expertly to her full, petite frame. It was more than enough to distract the young Mister Taiko. His blond friend shook his shoulder, frowning. 

“Did you hear anything I just said?” he asked peevishly, clearly well aware of the answer. 

Mister Taiko took a deep breath and pulled his gaze, smoothing his hair back again. This was a habit born of running his fingers through the long black tresses he had pulled tight into a respectable ponytail, and he flexed his long fingers for want of something to occupy them. 

“Do not approach the heiress. I understand you very clearly,” he said, glancing at his friend out of the corner of his eye. 

“Normally, I don’t care what you do, but Miss Odette has taken more risk than she is willing to admit by inviting us here as such. I won’t jeopardize that.”

Mister Taiko waved away the concern. “I hear you perfectly clear, my dear man. I won’t lay a single finger on her, nor utter a single syllable otherwise withheld. Your seat with your dearest will be no more damaged for my being here.”

Mister Creed continued to frown. He was not a man given to smiling often. “Please do not refuse yourself a good time on my account, Rowan. Miss Odette is extremely fond of you, and she’d be upset if you didn’t enjoy yourself.”

Mister Taiko raised a brow. “Just don’t ruin it.”

“That’s all I ask.” 

“Sebastion!” A voice called out, and Mister Creed whipped around, orienting himself in its direction, just as a tall, red-haired woman hurried towards them through the guests.

Mister Creed’s countenance lit up, a grin – a lopsided expression he was mightily embarrassed about most of the time – spread plain across his face. “Miss Odette!”

As she came to settle before him, she took his hands and raised the knuckles to her lips. “How many times must I ask you to call me Autumn?” she said. 

Mister Creed seemed to gain a little bit of heat in his face. “At least a few more.” 

She pinched his fingers as she released him before turning towards his companion. “And Rowan! I am so glad to see you made it as well. Looking rather dashing,” Miss Odette said with a wink. 

Mister Taiko offered her a smirk and a bow. “How could I refuse the invitation of a beautiful woman such as yourself, Miss Odette?” 

She huffed, hands on her hips, but she smiled. “Ever the rascal, you are.” 

“Only as I am obliged, naturally.”

Miss Bowen, attention drawn by the calling out of her friend, looked over to see two young men at Miss Odette’s side, conversely rather casually. The tall one was handsome, certainly, but it was the slender figure that gave her pause. 

He was Asian, darker in complexion than his companion, darker than most members of the party, and his expression was animated. His posture was at once at ease and on high alert, tension and grace to his motions as he bowed to Miss Odette. His long dark hair was scraped back into a ponytail, but the long tail spilled over his shoulder. All but the pressed white shirt under his waistcoat was black as night, though as he stood once more the shifting of lights revealed a subtle brocade on his waistcoat. The smirking grin upon his mouth made her turn abruptly away, raising her bubbling glass to her lips to mask her fluster. 

“Cece, are you okay?” said the tall boy stood anxiously at her side. Her cousin, Nathaniel, a child still, he was already nearly a whole head taller than her, and he seemed to fear that he might only ever grow vertically until he could not pass under doorways with any ease. 

“Of course, Nate. Are you?” she asked softly, laying a hand on his slender arm. 

He swallowed. “If I confess that I am not and would like to retreat, would you grant me that reprieve?”

She smiled, drawing him away from their circle of conversation. It had only perfunctorily included the two of them, and as such, they were not missed. “If you can give me an excuse to explain your absence, I shall let you off with only one dance.” 

The young man groaned in complaint. 

“You know that your father will protest ever so much if he does not even see you here.”

“Okay. One dance, and then we shall say that I grew dizzy from spinning and went to lie down.” The sullen youth offered his hand to his cousin, who laughed at the expense of his discomfort but laid her own hand on his palm. 

Miss Bowen pulled the long teen through the guests to the dance floor where several pairs spun to the music, languishing in the proximity permitted by their dancer’s embrace. Miss Odette and Mister Creed both struggled to smother their grins, hands clasped tight and with her toes upon his in a pique of childish delight. 

Miss Bowen did not miss Mister Taiko watching his companion with a soft twist to his expression, nursing a champagne flute in his hands. They met eyes briefly, and after a stunned moment, Mister Taiko wrested his graze away, upended what remained in his glass down his throat, and turned to disappear among the guests. 

“Is that rascal a problem?” the young Nathaniel asked, guiding their dance with a chaste hand upon her back. 

“Why might you say he is a rascal, Nate? Are you acquainted?” Miss Bowen asked brightly, and her dance partner groaned once more.

“Of course not,” he sniffed. They spun past his father, Mister David O’Connelly. Miss Bowen tossed a smile his way, but Nathaniel did not. 

“That’s a shame,” she said as they passed from earshot. “I hoped you might introduce us, as is proper.”

“He’s associated with your friend, Autumn, isn’t he? Ask her,” he said peevishly. 

She laughed. “I suppose so. I shall release you from your immense discomfort very soon and see to introductions myself.” And Miss Bowen did just that. The song dipped to a momentary pause, a lull to indicate that a new song was now beginning, and curtsied to Nathaniel. He bowed stiffly, before taking his swift-footed retreat. 

Miss Bowen sought out the copper of her friend’s bright hair amongst the dispersed dancer. She was hand in hand with the handsome blond man, fanning the exposed skin above her green gown. 

“Oh, Cecilia! Have you met my beau, Mister Sebastion Creed?” Miss Odette said breathlessly, presenting her dance partner. 

The aforementioned beau dipped his head in greeting. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Bowen. Miss Odette has spoken very highly of you,” he said lightly. 

Miss Bowen curtsied. 

Miss Odette turned to press forward their other companion. “And this is Mister Rowan Taiko, a close friend of Sebastion’s.” 

Mister Taiko offered his hand, other hand tucked behind his hand, and Miss Bowen placed her own dainty fingers in that hand, and was surprised by the calluses. More, though, she was surprised by the dusting of freckles, like constellations spread across the heavens, upon Mister Taiko’s cheekbones as he raised her knuckles to his lips. 

“A pleasure,” he said and let go. His voice was warm, a tenor that bordered on feminine. 

“To you both, as well.” Miss Bowen found herself short of words, of pleasantries. 

“Cecilia, what happened to your cousin? He very nearly bolted from the dance floor the moment you released him,” Miss Odette asked pointedly. There was an air of mischief to her, in her posture as she laid her other hand upon Mister Creed’s inner elbow. 

“He was feeling dizzy, so he went to lie down for a while.” Miss Bowen said. “Are you still apprenticed to Doctor Alexander, Mister Creed? Autumn has told me you are very close to a practice of your own.”

He eyed the lovely woman on his arm, at once critical and warm. It was clear to anyone who might glance their way that he was ardently enamored with her. “Did she now? I don’t wish to make her words untrue, but the good Doctor doesn’t intend to release my apprenticeship for another year yet.” 

Miss Odette pinched his arm. “A year is nothing.”

“And what is it that you do, Mister Taiko?” Miss Bowen said, turning her gaze to the dark-haired young man.

“Transatlantic commerce and import, miss.”

“A sailor?” she said brightly, and it drew a burst of laughter from Mister Taiko.

“No, Miss Bowen. I have never so much as set foot upon a seafaring vessel and I intend to keep it that way. My job lay primarily in translation and labor,” he said quickly.

Miss Bowen smiled, her bright eyes fixed on the mysterious young man before her. “I hope you might later tell me more about yourself, Mister Taiko. How ever did you Mister Creed meet, being in such different fields as you are?”

The two friends exchanged a glance, quick as a startled bird flees, before Mister Taiko said, “Entirely by chance, truly. We share an apartment.”

“And now I cannot be rid of you,” Mister Creed intoned. 

Mister Taiko smirked. “Nor I, you. Such is the curse of friendship, I suppose.” 

Miss Bowen cut in. “And do you dance, Mister Taiko?” 

He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said, do you dance? I noticed that you did not join the dance with your friend.”

He seemed to hesitate. “I did not have a partner. That’s all.” 

“Then, if you are not opposed, would you join me for a song? Lest you be left with nothing of this night but a hangover tomorrow.” 

At this, Mister Taiko momentarily blanched but managed to rearrange his features into a polite smile. “I would be much obliged, Miss Bowen.” 

Mister Creed, having parted his lips to intercede, was silence by a pressure upon his hand by Miss Odette. He looked down at her, brows drawn, and she looked back, eyes bright, her lips pursed in an innocent question. 

“You risk both of us this way, Miss Odette,” he whispered as Miss Bowen pulled his companion onto the dance floor.

“No more than the risk I take loving you, Sebastion,” she replied before entreating him to join the other pair upon the dance floor.

Mister Taiko was tall. When standing beside his taller friend, it was easy to imagine that his height was average, but up close, he was not. Miss Bowen found herself eye-level with his lips, forearm pressed along his shoulder, hands gently ensconced. He guided them readily, leading with minute articulations of his hand on the middle of her back. 

“I have never seen you at a gathering of this sort before, Mister Taiko,” she said conversationally. So close, it was clear that Mister Taiko’s eyes were not as dark as she’d imagined – not black, but brown like freshly tilled earth, framed by dark lashes. 

“Nor have I been to such a gathering before, Miss Bowen. Do you remember all those who attend?” he said it with a cocked brow, a clear turn of his mouth. 

“I would remember you.” 

“Shall I take that as a compliment, miss?” he asked, turning them in a quick circle. The hand at her back kept her close through the giddy spin.

“I imagine you should,” she said, laughing. 

“Then I thank you for the kind words, Miss Bowen, and not wonder how I so quickly drew your attentions.”

“And I shall wonder on how to gain yours then, Mister Taiko,” she said, lowering her lashes. 

As they turned and Mister Taiko drew close, he said quietly, “You needn’t wonder, Miss Bowen.” 

She leaned into him, brazenly so, and he leaned out so that she did not quite meet his chest. She glanced curiously up to him. 

“I am under obligation to not lavish them too obviously upon you, lest you decide you wish more than I can openly oblige,” he added, with a cool and unhappy smile. 

“To whom do you hold this obligation, if not yourself?”

“Not to myself, no, but it would be a shorter recital to tell you to whom I do not hold such a promise, either of which I shan’t divulge.” 

“Such cruelty,” she said quietly. 

His unhappy smile became bittersweet, as the music began to die down. “Perhaps, but I hope that even if your attentions wane in the face of this fact, you may remember me still, and I shall accept the pleasantness of this dance as a precious memory to see me through a hangover tomorrow.” 

He released her but her hand as the pair broke apart, pressing his lips against the back of her hand, a lingering moment. He looked up at her through his lashes, and she sought to linger her fingers against his calloused palm. She could not say anything as he thanked her for the dance and disappeared into the crowd. 

Mister Creed found his friend hiding in the shadows of the window, and pressed a glass into his hand. 

“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost, Rowan.”

“I should damn you as far as I care for you, Sebastion.”

The blond raised his eyebrows. “I’m afraid you can blame that particular stunt upon Miss Odette, as she seems to have designs upon her friend and mine.”

“Be that as it may,” Mister Taiko said sharply, “her designs put me in an uncomfortable spot with the heiress.”

“You like her? I did not think she was of your usual taste.” 

“I do not have a specific taste, Sebastion. Women are not food.”

“You catch my meaning, Rowan.”

The dark-haired young man turned to his friend sharply. “Did you know of her intentions?” 

He shook his head. “I would not have proposed prohibitions upon you if I had thought so. But I don’t wish harm to befall either of us.”

“Have you asked her yet?” 

Mister Creed delayed answering by taking a long drink. His eyes turned to the copper-haired woman he adored as she danced with her father. “I must have something to offer her before I ask her to marry me.” 

“Then you are as foolish as I am, if not more,” Mister Taiko teased. “She doesn’t come to visit you at our lousy rooms because of what you might provide her except for your affection.”

“Perhaps,” he couched. “Are you determined to hide for the rest of the evening? I think your rebuff has endeared our young heiress to you.” 

“Not terribly determined, no. But I don’t wish to cause an upset in such a place. Even I have that much common sense, no matter how pretty and bold a lady might be.” Mister Taiko took a sip of the bubbling drink. 

“Then you had best make your half-assed attempt, my friend,” Mister Creed said, nodding a chin towards the dance floor. Miss Bowen glanced around, even as her dance partner still pinched her fingers with his own. “It may be a good time for a cigarette.”

“My same thought.” He clapped him on the shoulder and made his way through the guests to slip through the glass doors onto the veranda, obscured by thick curtains and a lack of candlelight. 

Mister Taiko sighed a deep breath, undoing the tight ribbon that bound his long hair into its prison. It rained down, inky and thick, too slippery and stubborn to hold onto the fashionable curls of the time. He ran his hands through it, catching on the occasional knot. 

It was a clear cool evening, and with the sun sunk firmly below the horizon, stars had begun to poke their way out of the velvet darkness. The veranda was dressed in long shadows and lights from inside. Music was muted to his ears, as though he was deep underwater.

He exhaled smoke into the dark, preoccupied with his own thoughts when the strips of light illuminating the veranda fell into shadow. Mister Taiko turned and nearly jumped clear out of his skin when Miss Bowen closed the door behind her.

“You startled me half to death, miss.” He said, pressing a hand over his heart. 

“My apologies.” She said, clasping her hands before her and crossing the veranda to stand beside him. 

“Did you tire of dancing?” he asked.

“I would rather say my attentions were elsewhere.”

Mister Taiko drew a deep inhale, and blew out a thin stream of smoke. “I apologize for that.”

“My cousin is convinced that you are a rascal, Mister Taiko.” 

“Oh?” Mister Taiko intoned, sweeping his long hair over his other shoulder to see her better. “And do you share the conviction?”

“I would rather believe you are a gentleman, but I hardly know you.” Miss Bowen raised a bold hand to Mister Taiko’s neck, her soft thumb passing over his throat. “So I ask you, mindful of your obligations; are you a gentleman, Mister Taiko?”

Mister Taiko was still for a moment before cupping her hand with his own, pulling it away from his throat. “I am gentle with those who desire or deserve gentility.” 

“And the rest?” she breathed.

“I prefer a suit to skirts, miss,” Mister Taiko said softly, “if it is all the same to you.” 

“All the better,” Miss Bowen said, pressing her mysterious companion’s hand between her own and raising it to her lips. “I wonder, though, why you prefer trousers over skirts?”

“For the ease of movement, miss.”

“Should I continue to call you sir, Mister Taiko?” 

“Only strictly in condemning company. My given name is yours if you please.” 

“And mine, yours, Rowan.” She rested her hands on the thick stone railing, considering. “Ease of movement in work or in life, do you suppose?”

Before the dark-haired woman could reply, Miss Bowen gathered the front of her voluminous peach skirts and worked her feet out of her shoes. She climbed bodily onto the railing in her stockings, patting out her skirts as she stood. 

Miss Taiko, recovering herself after the surprise, grinned. “Both, Cecilia. Both.” 

“I imagine it is very freeing in many ways? To live freely as a man,” she said wistfully, taking a few playful steps with arms outstretched. “To love as one.”

“It easier to live as a foreign man than a foreign woman of no means.” Miss Taiko raised the cigarette to her lips, dark eyes watching the heiress balance on the high baluster. “May I ask what it was that gave me away?” 

Miss Bowen offered her a conspirator’s smile. “Autumn has mentioned to me that Mister Creed shared his rooms with an uncommon young woman of a striking disposition.”

Miss Taiko laughed a smoky cackle. “Miss Odette is in so much trouble,” she said in a very dangerous tone of voice. 

“To that, I have a confession to make.” Miss Bowen turned to face Miss Taiko from her high vantage point, and extended her arms. Her companion, sticking the cigarette between her teeth, put her hands to Miss Bowen’s waist, the latter with hands on shoulders, and lifted her down. Miss Bowen slid easily into the circle of Miss Taiko’s arms, trailing her hands over her jacket, her elbows. “I asked her to introduce you to me.” 

“So, you were the designer of Miss Odette’s schemes.” Miss Taiko discarded the cigarette underfoot.

“With that in mind, may I ask again to whom you hold obligations that would restrict the attentions you might pay to me?” 

A shadow crossed over Miss Taiko’s countenance. “Those who spit to see a foreign man love a white woman, let alone a foreign woman who might love one.” 

“Yet you’ve never set foot upon a sea-faring vessel,” Miss Bowen pressed. 

“Not all are so kind as to hear me when I speak, Cecilia,” Miss Taiko said softly. “But more specifically, Sebastion asked me not to seduce the beautiful heiress attending this party.” 

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“Devastatingly so.” Miss Taiko’s hands continued to rest on her waist. 

“I shall see to Mister Creed’s warnings by proposing that I seduce you instead, Rowan.”

Miss Taiko’s eyebrows shot up. “Perhaps the champagne has gone straight to my head, but did you just suggest that you would attempt to seduce me at a more convenient time?”

She nodded, her brown eyes glittering. “If I were to join Autumn in visiting the rooms you and Mister Creed keep, no one shall be the wiser as to my intentions. If this is an agreeable proposition?” 

She stared at her with wide eyes. “As opposed to what, Miss Bowen?” 

Miss Bowen raised her hands to Miss Taiko’s jaw and stood up on her tip-toes to press her soft mouth to those smoky lips. 

“Or I shall have no choice but to make you fall in love with me,” she said breathlessly. “As in a fairy tale.”

Miss Taiko brought her face closer, her voice barely above a breath. “A daring challenge to achieve a difficult end, Cecilia. I am not an easy woman to love.” 

“I accept your challenge, Rowan, if you will accept mine.” 

Miss Taiko laughed, throwing her head back. “You shall have my attentions as long as you desire, Miss Bowen,” she said, running her hands through her long hair. 

The sound of a throat being cleared made them both turn towards the door, taking an unconscious step apart. 

“Good lord, Sebastion, could you make more noise when you approach a person in the dark?” Miss Taiko said in an exhale.

“You are both very lucky that it was me who stepped out here and not someone much more important,” Mister Creed said sharply. “Miss Bowen, I believe it is your cousin who is looking for you. The young one.” 

Miss Bowen retrieved her shoes and carefully worked them back onto her feet amidst the petticoats. “Did he say what it was he needed me for, Mister Creed? I was under the impression that he was going to lie down for a while.”

“He said something about being forcibly ejected from his quarters on the charge of avoiding the party.” 

She huffed. “That silly boy has not yet learned how to follow through on his excuses.”

“Miss Odette is keeping him company currently.” 

“Of course. I’ll go to see him right away.” She turned to Miss Taiko. “And you’ll join me for another dance when I am free, right, Mister Taiko?” 

“After I have had a word with him, yes,” Sebastion said. He opened the glass pane door to admit Miss Bowen back into the ballroom and closed it behind her to stop Miss Taiko.

“Before I am accused of anything-” Miss Taiko started, but Mister Creed’s expression halted her. There was colour in his pale face as he crossed the veranda to clasp his friend’s shoulders.

“Miss Odette has stated her intention to be my wife.”

Miss Taiko grinned. “And did you answer her intentions?”

“Not as you would hope, my dear fool, but I could hardly refrain from reciprocating my joy at the prospect of being her husband.” 

“My good friend, let us raise a glass to your future engagement then. Unless you are satisfied with the hangover you shall have tomorrow?”

“You’ve promised a drink and a dance to Miss Bowen too, haven’t you?”

“I kept my promise as best I could. Miss Bowen was many steps ahead of me, I fear, and your beloved was nearly in trouble for giving her all too many clues about your lady roommate.” 

“And?”

Miss Taiko laughed, attempting to tie her hair back into its headache-inducing ponytail. “I will allow Miss Bowen to tell you her devilish proposal herself. I think you’ll find it equal parts appealing and appalling, and I’ll have you know that I provided no input.”

“I am beginning to fear that we have met a woman who matches you in brashness and audacity,” Mister Creed said, straightening his jacket. 

Miss Taiko flashed him a grin. “I most certainly hope so.” 

“Then let us have a drink, and I’ll hear this scandalous proposal before deciding what degree of hangover I shall have come sunrise.” Mister Creed slung an arm around his friend’s shoulders, giving his ponytail a teasing little tug and leading him back inside.

They rejoined Miss Odette and Miss Bowen, who greeted them with full glasses of champagne. Mister Creed leaned in to kiss Miss Odette’s cheek. 

“Did your young cousin recover from his youthful ineptitude?” Miss Taiko asked quietly. 

“He was provided some excellent words of wisdom from a very smart, beautiful lady and sent back with thorough instructions,” Miss Bowen said sagely. 

“Is that so?” Miss Taiko laughed, one hand in her pocket. “Should I be surprised that you are so experienced in, what was it … dizziness, miss?”

“One might discover, with enough time, that I am a woman of many surprising talents, Mister Taiko.” 

Mister Creed and Miss Odette laced their fingers together. Lowering his voice and leaning close to her ear, Mister Creed whispered, “Please tell me you did not orchestrate this entire party for this purpose.”

“And if, by chance, I put my wealth to personal use in answering the requests of my dear friend Cecilia?” Miss Odette whispered back.

“Then you are far more the rascal than Rowan may ever be charged with.”

“I shall take that as a compliment, beloved.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Miss Bowen, before you whisk my friend away to make him dizzy himself, I believe you had a proposal for me.” 

She beckoned him closer and cupped her hand around his ear. 

Miss Taiko watched with a smirk of satisfaction as several expressions passed over Mister Creed’s face – surprise, scandal, and finally, grim acceptance. Released, he turned to Miss Taiko, downed his drink, and waved him away. 

“Fine. I cannot stop you, so you need not be bound by any oath on my account, Rowan,” he said. 

Miss Bowen grinned, and Miss Odette glanced curiously between them. “Come, darling, whatever is this about? Am I to be kept in the dark?”

“Of course not, Autumn! You are, in truth, absolutely instrumental!” Miss Bowen pulled her friend close and uttered to her the proposed subterfuge as well. Miss Odette glowed with excitement. 

“You three shall be the death of me,” Mister Creed grumbled. 

“But what a pleasure to be undone by two clever, beautiful women,” Miss Taiko said, to which he added, “And a dangerous rogue.”

“Perhaps, but I clean up well enough I think.” 

“That reminds me,” Miss Odette said suddenly. “What delayed you this evening?” 

“My apologies, Miss Odette. That was on my account,” Miss Taiko said quickly. “We were seeing off my brother at the port. His ship was delayed by weather.” 

“Is he off on another trade expedition?”

“Not quite, miss. He’s found a position assisting a wildlife researcher, so it shall be nearly a year until he returns home.” 

“How marvelous! I can hardly blame you for being late on that account.”

Miss Taiko bowed. “Ever gracious, Miss Odette.”

“Please, both of you, just call me Autumn.” 

With a glance at Mister Creed, Miss Taiko nodded. “Very well then, Autumn.”

She grinned. “Shall we, Rowan?” Miss Odette extracted her hand from Mister Creed and offered it for Miss Taiko to take to the dance floor. 

“Oh, that’s not fair!” Miss Bowen scoffed, as Miss Taiko shot her a grin and took Miss Odette’s hand for a dance. 

“If you’ll make do with me, Miss Bowen, would you join me for a dance?” Mister Creed offered. “Despite lacking some of my friend’s … charms.”

“The beauty of being different people is the grand diversity of charms, Mister Creed,” she said, finishing her drink and joining him on the way to the dance floor. 

They shared a dance, Miss Odette with Miss Taiko, Mister Creed and Miss Bowen, then traded partners – Miss Odette sweeping in to take Miss Bowen and Mister Creed wheeling Miss Taiko into his arms. 

“I see you are in on the scheme now, Sebastion,” Miss Taiko complained. 

Mister Creed smirked. “And what if I simply wish to dance with you, my good man?” 

Miss Taiko yanked on the short hairs at the nape of his neck, earning a yelp and a laugh. They were an odd pair, Mister Sebastion Creed and Miss Rowan Taiko, a young medic and a cross-dressing translator, years apart in age, but they had been inseparable since meeting. Had they more closely resembled each another, they would easily be mistaken for brothers. 

“Should I make a habit of promising you a dance then, dearest?” Miss Taiko teased. “That anytime we go out on the town, I shan’t accidentally snub your good company by pursuing those who more draw my fancy.”

“Oh, do shut up, you absolute scoundrel,” Mister Creed said ruefully, lifting their linked hands. “And don’t you ever say I never do anything for you.” With a strong hand on Miss Taiko’s back, he spun her out and directly into Miss Bowen’s way.

“It’s almost as though we’re being conspired against, isn’t it, Mister Taiko?” Miss Bowen breathed, taking Miss Taiko’s hand as the latter put an arm around her waist. 

“After all this conspiring to have us meet, I agree that it’s rather nefarious, Miss Bowen,” Miss Taiko agreed. The drinks and spinning were going to her head, and she couldn’t stop grinning. The tempo picked up, bright tunes ringing through the ballroom. 

They dipped and turned, several times turning so quickly that Miss Taiko lifted Miss Bowen off her feet, the latter giggling the entire way. As the song wound down and they spun to a halt, Miss Bowen reached up to tuck a long strand of hair that had come loose behind her ear. 

“Dizzy?” Miss Taiko asked.

“Are you?” 

Miss Taiko grinned. “I’ll never admit to it even if I am, miss.”

“A drink to steady you, Mister Taiko?”

“I’m beginning to think you’d like to see me drunk, Miss Bowen,” Miss Taiko said. 

“Would you think so if I should join you?”

“I might think you were endeavouring to inebriate us both.” 

“And if I am?” 

“Then I would be inclined to agree to your proposal if only to cool our heads for a moment. But I must ask again: have I made you dizzy?” Miss Taiko said devilishly.

“In more ways than one, Mister Taiko,” Miss Bowen admitted with a laugh. 

Miss Taiko bowed out of the embrace, gesturing with her arm towards the sidebar, keeping her soft hand in hers. Together they escaped the dance floor and found a couple of glasses of champagne and a velvet settee unoccupied nearby that they collapsed onto.

“Better, miss?” Miss Taiko adjusted her jacket and unfastening the top button of her shirt. 

Miss Bowen pulled her in closer and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “From the dancing yes,” she said softly. “But in all other cases, I remain delightfully.”

“One could say dangerously, Miss Bowen.” 

The heiress gently swept the length of her companion's ponytail over her shoulder. “Is there a special reason that you keep your hair so long, Mister Taiko? It’s not a common length for a working gentleman.”

“For the simple reason that I like it as such.” 

She touched a hair to the ribbon binding her hair back. “May I?” 

Miss Taiko took a long drink of her champagne and nodded. Free of its binding, Miss Bowen carefully brushed it out with her fingers. “It’s so lovely,” she said softly. 

“As are you,” Miss Taiko said. 

She blushed quite pink. “Is it untoward to say that I look so forward to calling upon you later, far away from prying eyes, that I might ask you the many questions that play upon my mind?” 

“I wouldn’t say so. Not from a girl so bold as you.” 

“I am not so bold as you might think me, Mister Taiko.” Miss Bowen said, fussing with her skirts and her curls, pinned up elaborately and set with sparkling stones as they were. “I merely wish for a fuller life than that I’ve been prescribed. You can hardly blame me for seizing what few opportunities come within my grasp, nor my fascination when I heard of Miss Odette’s friend.”

“And what life might have been prescribed for you, Miss Bowen?” 

She considered and drained half of her glass. “A life that is devoid of choice.”

“Yet here you are.” 

“This,” Miss Bowen said, tucking hair behind Miss Taiko’s ear, “is the end of my very short leash. A ballroom of well-off bachelors who may perceive a pretty pet in me and relieve my family of an inconvenience.” 

Miss Taiko looked at her for a long quiet moment. “There shall be no collar upon you when you call upon me, Cecilia. I can promise you that.” She touched her neck, ever so gently.

“Then I shall call upon you frequently, and pray that I do not wear out your gentility, nor your attentions.”

Miss Taiko smiled crookedly. “It’s unlikely that you should do so, as you are increasingly enchanting.” 

Miss Bowen laughed, laying a hand on her thigh. “Perhaps you are drunk,” she said, “and dizzy.”

“Perhaps I am merely being honest,” Miss Taiko said. 

Miss Bowen watched her finish her drink. Laying her hands on her shoulder and her chin upon those, she said, “And perhaps a little drunk?” 

She paused for a long time before laughing. “I’ll never admit it.” 

“You’re really quite red in the face, you know that, don’t you?” Miss Bowen said, giggling.

Miss Taiko touched her own face in horror. “My heritage gives me away.” 

“May I ask about your heritage, Rowan? I know you hail from here as much as I do, but I am curious,” she asked.

“My family hails from Japan, though I have never been,” Miss Taiko said. 

“The boats?” the heiress asked.

Miss Taiko shuddered. “I bear no love for open water, Cecilia. None at all.” 

“Do your relations travel between here and there often?”

“My brother is the first to leave these shores in decades, as our parents passed several years ago.” 

She raised her chin, fingers trailing down her arm to rest on her hand. “I am sorry to hear that. I didn’t know.”

“It would be an off-putting habit to introduce myself as an orphan, let alone at a lavish party such as this, would it not? Particularly as I am not so young as to be a tragedy on account of it.”

“Were you that young when it happened?” Miss Bowen asked it softly. She wound her fingers through Miss Taiko.

“We were at the age where it is unfortunate rather than tragic,” Miss Taiko mused. 

“Is your brother older or younger?” 

“Four years my senior, while Sebastion is six. Have you any siblings of your own?”

“None. I might have had a fellow saboteur from the get-go, otherwise.”

“And how do you occupy your free time, without a sibling to harangue you senseless?”

Miss Bowen smiled shyly. “I paint, that I may one day live freely by them.”

“Do you suppose I should be so privileged as to see them one day?” Miss Taiko asked. 

“If you will model for me, I’d be pleased to show off.”

“I shall practice keeping still,” she said with a grin.

The pair were interrupted by Miss Odette and Mister Creed. The former had let down her hair, great wavy locks of fire, and the latter’s shirt had been undone by several buttons. His face was flush with colour. 

“We wondered where you had gone off to,” Miss Odette said, gesturing for Miss Bowen to gather her skirts out of the way so that she might sit next to her. Mister Creed leaned upon the settee arm beside his roommate. 

“Not so far as to be a worry for anyone’s reputation, I would think,” Miss Taiko said. She prodded her friend in the side, earning a glare. 

“Be that as it may very well be, we thought it would be important to let you know that your father has arrived, Cecilia.”

Miss Bowen’s expression fell and she withdrew her hands from Miss Taiko. “He is here to collect me, I assume?” Her voice contained a wealth of disappointment. 

Mister Creed pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded. 

She sighed and stood. Miss Taiko caught her hand as she stumbled and pressed a kiss to her hand that lingered well beyond perfunctory. 

“If I should be far too impatient to wait for your call, how might I contact you, Miss Bowen?” 

She hesitated. “I’m sorry there is no convenient way. Autumn can pass messages along. Do not fear, Mister Taiko. I will call upon you soon. I will.” 

“Then I shall practice patience until then, Miss Bowen.”

Miss Bowen cast a quick look over her shoulder and, satisfied with the results of her search, swooped down to kiss Miss Taiko on the lips. “Thank you, Rowan,” she said. Then she turned on her heel and strode away through the crowd with Miss Odette. 

Mister Creed gestured for Miss Taiko to move over and slid into her spot. “No obligation you held could’ve kept her from you, I think.”

Miss Taiko nodded quietly, touching a hand to her lips. 

Her friend looked at her then, observing the glint in her eyes, her hair loose around her shoulders, and how little she was listening to him. “Have you had much to drink?” 

“I’ve never been so drunk as to be as you are implying.” She reached for her hair ribbon, to tie her locks away once more and found it missing. A grin spread upon her face. “Truly, I for once cannot blame a drink.”

He clapped her on the shoulder. “Shall we return home before you are quite overcome with your newfound lovesickness?”

“What about Miss Odette?” 

“We will see each other the day after tomorrow to go out on the town. She said she must attend to the other guests of her own party, and I am too much of a distraction.”

“Then let us go home.” Miss Taiko stood and, seemingly overcome with a moment of instability, was rescued from falling by Mister Creed’s hands on her back. 

He smirked at her, accepting a hand as he stood more carefully than his companion had. 

She smacked his shoulder. “Not a word, Sebastion.”

“I said not a thing, dearest Rowan.”

She rolled her eyes, and the two made their way off to hail a coach or to stumble all the way home.

**Author's Note:**

> so, uh, this is quite a turn from my normal AkaTsukki fics, but i hope you've enjoyed it nonetheless! all characters are pulled closely from my WIP novel, a story very different from this with much darker tones, but with about as much casual pining touching. 
> 
> please let me know if you'd be interested in reading any more of this, because it is close to my heart but i know it is not so easy to care about new characters like it is to care about familiar ones. 
> 
> as always, thank you so much for reading and spending your time with me! <3


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